Twiceborn by Marina Finlayson

be a worldwide shortage of paracetamol if it didn’t let up soon. And I was so tired. Thank God Avoca wasn’t much further.
    “He looked like a gym junkie—big guy, all neck and shoulders. He was already in the house when I came home. Must have turned off the power at the mains. No lights. I thought I’d blown a fuse. Anyway, it was dark, and he jumped me when I came into the kitchen. He asked who I was working for—Alicia or Valeria. Do those names mean anything to you?”
    He nodded, looking grim. “People you don’t want to cross.”
    “People? Or werewolf people?”
    “Neither. The wolves aren’t the only shifters.”
    I shut my eyes. They were gritty with exhaustion. “Of course they’re not. What else? Vampires? Don’t make me play twenty questions.”
    He sighed. “A lot of the old stories are true, or at least based in truth—all those ones about people changing into something else. Turns out there’s a surprising number of creatures passing themselves off as human—things like vampires and werewolves, plus lots of others you might not have heard of. Even mermaids, though I’ve never met one of those.”
    Which implied he had met the others? Holy supernatural freak show, Batman.
    “Considering how many different types there are, it’s a wonder there’s not more trouble, but they mostly keep to their own kind. I guess it’s in their own interests to lay low. No one wants to be the one who starts the humans off with the pitchforks and the burnings again.”
    “That guy in my kitchen didn’t seem to care about laying low.” I couldn’t stop replaying the horrible images over and over in my mind. Hot meaty breath in my face, yellow soulless eyes, hulking body bristling with shaggy fur. And my God the teeth. I would not turn into that. I’d rather die. I realised my hands were shaking and tucked them into my armpits to hide them.
    “No.” He chewed his lip for a moment. “It’s out of character. Something’s going on. Did he say anything else?”
    I thought back. “We exchanged threats. He said he was going to eat my heart.”
    “You exchanged threats with a werewolf?” He sounded amused.
    “Well, I didn’t know he was a werewolf at the time. I just said ‘not if I cut yours out first, buddy’, or something like that. Oh, and I pretended I was working for someone else, to try and stall him. He asked if it was Elizabeth, but he didn’t seem to like the idea.”
    “Lord, I hope she’s not involved,” said Ben.
    “Who’s Elizabeth?”
     
    Fierce blue eyes regarded me from a face beginning to show its great age. Her white hair was impeccably styled in a sleek bob, the ends coming to a sharp point on either side of her jaw. On the wall behind her head hung a famous Renoir, and it was no print. Only the best for Elizabeth. She had more money than Midas, more power than God—yet she still wasn’t happy.
    At the moment her unhappiness seemed largely my fault, judging by the sour expression on her face every time she forced herself to look at me.
    She pushed the deeds across the desk and I glanced at the paper. The address was in the heart of The Rocks and I had no doubt it would be impressive. There was money too, in shares and cash—enough zeroes to satisfy anyone. But who was she trying to impress?
    Not me. Dragon queens rarely showed much interest in their progeny, but I had the distinct impression that in my case she’d gone beyond lack of interest to active dislike.
    Not her other daughters, who would all be receiving similar largesse. She could afford to be generous, since only one of us would live through the proving, and she would get it all back from those who didn’t survive. She seemed to be going through the motions, as if this were a book she’d read before.
    Or a trial with a foregone conclusion.
    “Is there any hope for the rest of us?”
    She raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at my hostile tone. The queen wasn’t used to attitude from her subjects.
    “What do